"Mr. Davidson?"
"Yes; Uncle Henry. He manages things until I'm thirty. All I get—or did get—was the income."
Rosalind nodded.
"Well, I used to play cards a good bit. I was always losing, somehow. I was always drawing in advance on Uncle Henry. I suppose you can understand how that was."
"Oh, thoroughly!"
"Of course, he didn't fancy that much. He said I was getting into disastrous habits, and—I guess he was right. He wanted me to stop playing cards for money."
"Was it bridge?"
"That was it—bridge."
"It's rather fascinating," she commented.
"I thought so—once," he said gloomily. "Well, Uncle Henry had some friends up from the city, and we had a pretty heavy game one night. There was a Mr. Morton there."